A Fan Girl’s Guide to Grief


Or “F Triple G” as the youth likes to call it.*

Read & Listen:

“(One of those) Crazy Girls”- Paramore

“Snaggle Tooth”- Vance Joy

“Can’t Help Falling in Love”- Haley Reinhart

Unless you have a head on your shoulders that’s screwed on tight, you’re going to know what I’m talking about. A person’s face might pop up in your mind, but most of us know the feeling of liking a celebrity, possibly liking them too much, and then finding out they aren’t single… Jealousy is a bitch.

Literally I won’t lie to you, this feeling for me does not come once in a blue moon. With my thumbs as my leaders through social media, I am the heart eyes emoji. The word “love” may or may not sweep through my brain (even though it’s totally not true, but I will confess that I am dramatic).

However, this time, it wasn’t through social media that led me to falling in love on this particular day. It was through another love of my life that doesn’t come in human form– The Olympics. I remember the opening ceremony in Beijing 2008 playing in my parents room. I vividly recall watching the Olympics everyday for London 2012, picking out my boyfriends and following them on social media until 2013 rolled around. Nothing happened in 2013, I just got bored with them. Then, summer 2016 made it’s way into my life. My family and I all agreed to cancel cable since we have Netflix and Amazon Prime, but the signal antennas didn’t pick up NBC. Was I about to miss the Olympics?

I can see I’m dragging out the story a little bit, so basically no I didn’t miss it because it worked in my parents room, but at some point they did kick me out because although I still had summer break, they had work. So I missed a few events before my parents and I created a nice strategy where I could watch it at the bottom of the bed while they slept. Anyway, so I go onto Amazon Prime to watch the highlights from the night before since I missed it, and it was one of the swimming events. USA wins, of course, and on the medal podium, I see him.

If that moment were a short film, the camera would have zoomed in on me, wide-eyed, with wind blowing through my hair. The intro to “Born to Die” by Lana Del Rey would be playing and I would be slowly reaching for my phone to take a picture of the TV. Yes, I remember him from LDN 2012. I remember the crush I had on him too. Here we go again.


Fight or Flight

In the beginning, you’ll either try to reject the infatuation or let yourself go with the emotions, daydreams, social media stalking, whatever. In the beginning, I was unconsciously rejecting it, making it seem to my Snapchat friends and to myself that yeah he was a crush,–was— and I am now just reflecting on who I liked four years ago. He’s still cute, got a little haircut, ya know, whatever.

Until, like a drop of water coming through a crack, a flash of a daydream appears in my mind. “Nope,” I told myself. I may not know myself 100 percent, but I know once the daydreams of us start coming in, there is no turning back. So I wrote it down, thinking once I do it’ll be over and I can calmly continue watching The Olympics, but I’m naïve. Writing down my fake day in the Rio aquatic center watching my boyfriend win gold was a bad idea. It was like a nail and hammer in the sliver of my… sanity? Maturity? As much as I was honestly fighting it, my heart/mind ended up flying away without my permission.

You know you’re excited when you tell your parents about something you’re excited about. They are, universally, the last people you tell when you’re a teenager. But my crush on him slipped, and of course I regret it. My mom sent me not one but seven pictures of him.

So I Creep, Yeah

Like the Grinch in Cindy-Lou Who’s house, I slowly but surely crept onto his social media. Scrolling cautiously, hoping to not see anything, or anyone, I didn’t want to. I went far enough to trick myself into thinking that if I don’t see him with anyone at this point, he must be single. But I knew.

Next was Twitter. I can’t even remember if he had one. I think I did enough snooping for the day and I was becoming really paranoid about this whole girlfriend situation. Then I went on Youtube and got bored pretty quickly with all of the videos from four years ago, so it looks like Instagram was my main source.

I wasn’t disappointed. He always posted before he competed, and if you know me you know how much I love an active user (on Tumblr, if you haven’t posted in more than two weeks, I’m unfollowing). I was always in front of the screen during The Olympics, but I made sure not to fall asleep when he was on.

The Downfall

In traffic, I scroll through my phone on Instagram, of course, and I see him with a girl.


“What is happening right now? I’m so confused. What am I supposed to do? Should I unfollow him?” I then proceeded to stare at the screen for a lengthy amount of time. My thumb hovered, waiting for instruction, but I was blanking on even forming a full sentence in my brain.


“Why would he even post that? He just gained more followers and now he’s gonna post that, of all things? Why am I even following him? This whole thing is stupid, and I should have never followed him.” I then proceeded to throw my phone in my lap.


“Honestly, I should just delete Instagram as a whole and act like I’ve never seen this. Social media is the real problem. It’s always revealing stuff I don’t want to know about.” I then proceeded to bite my lip in deep thought on the last time I deleted the Instagram app when I was overwhelmed.


“Why do I always do this? I’m really sad about this right now. I can’t believe myself. My joke-y relationship references when I would post him on my Snapchat actually got my feelings hurt.” I then proceeded to look away every time he was in that one commercial they always showed. Like I was truly upset– I shocked even myself. Every time I get into this situation, I always surprise myself as if it’s the first time it’s happened. Like I can’t believe my emotions are really gonna act up on me right now.


Acceptance for me usually equals forgetfulness. As long as I totally forgot this happened, then it’s whatever. Or even better, I find someone else to dream about.


This all happened within literally two weeks– The length of the Olympics. For now, my mind is just floating around until I’m placed back on the normal girl train… I’ll derail soon enough. But may I ask, what the hell is up with liking a celebrity only when they are single? My brain is developed enough to know the probability of us dating let alone me meeting him ever in my life. Maybe it’s an optimism thing.

I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it! It was light hearted but still 100% truthful like I wish I was lying. Can you guess who the guy is?

Your Sherlock,


*no one calls it that. I just made it up.

A Fan Girl’s Guide to Grief

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